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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079879">Weaponless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulfireInc/pseuds/SoulfireInc'>SoulfireInc</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo, Beating, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, bound and gagged</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,211</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulfireInc/pseuds/SoulfireInc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm is abducted with a witness and tied up. How can he save her without his greatest weapon – his profile?</p><p>Bad Things Happen Bingo: Bound &amp; Gagged</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Arroyo &amp; Malcolm Bright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Weaponless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/whumpwriterforlife/gifts">whumpwriterforlife</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For my precious Finish bean</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Consciousness pulled lazily on Malcolm’s mind. He shied away from the pressure, not yet awake enough to know why. When the memory flickered hazily past his closed eyes he snapped awake, jerking violently only to groan out in pain.</p><p>            He could barely move. He was on his knees, wrists tied behind his back, around some kind of post. Cloth invaded his mouth, wrapping tightly around his cheeks and neck. He grimaced and dried blood crackled along his temple, the tiny sound far too loud in his ringing ears. A dull, belligerent sting gnawed at his hairline, making his brain sway in his skull as he squinted through the low light that shouldn’t hurt so much, trying to see where he was.</p><p>            Bare, unplastered walls. A wooden staircase that needed some TLC. A few wooden support beams holding up the ceiling, the one he was bound to rough with splinters and thick enough that his back was already straining from his taught position. A naked bulb shone weakly above him, the filament a twist of gold that looked minutes away from winking into darkness.</p><p>            He didn’t see Elaine.</p><p>            Malcolm swallowed against the gag, breathing deeply through his nose and trying to ignore the stink of damp and mold. He needed to think. Clearly, he’d been right about Elaine being more than a reluctant witness. Though the satisfaction of a hunch paying off was somewhat lessened by the predicament he now found himself in.</p><p>            He’d found Elaine on her way home from work, trying to get her to say whatever she’d held back about the Higgins case. She’d been about to relent, but there the memory stopped, abruptly cut off by a blunt pain and the world lurching sideways before disappearing.</p><p>            Higgins and his accomplice couldn’t know Malcolm was involved in the case, not unless they’d followed him and Elaine and made a snap decision. But he’d been careful, could’ve been a reporter to an outside ear. No, he wasn’t the target. This basement didn’t exactly scream preparedness, and if his numb wrists weren’t fooled he was tied up with wire, like jump leads. The gag felt like normal cloth tied with his own tie. Opportunistic. Unplanned.</p><p>            They’d come for Elaine. And he’d been in the way. Rather than leave the witness, they’d taken him too.</p><p>            Well. He’d just have to make them regret that.</p><p>            He went over his unfinished profile in his mind, trying to ignore the growing ache in his knees. Higgins was delusional, desperate. Trying to cover up something that had happened years ago, something so awful he never managed to move past it. It ruled his life, dictated every decision. And it had finally worn down whatever restraint Higgins had had.</p><p>            He’d killed Ryan Shaw because he’d been involved in the incident, whatever it was. Something that happened at the lake house when the two men were college seniors. It had all the hallmarks of a revenge killing, but there were marks on the body Malcolm hadn’t been able to interpret. The bruises and fractures could’ve been from the abduction, the transport, or they could have been a means of torture, of forcing Ryan to admit something.</p><p>            Or give up a name.</p><p>            What if Elaine had been at the cabin? What if her reluctance to cooperate hadn’t been out of arrogance, but fear? If she knew she was next, it made sense she’d tell Gil what he wanted to hear, get the spotlight off her so she could flee.</p><p>            Until Malcolm turned up on the pavement beside her.</p><p>            Speaking of Gil. Malcolm shifted, scowling as his body complained, trying to feel for his phone. It was gone. Had they dumped it when they’d abducted them? How long had it been, anyway? And how the hell was Gil supposed to find him?</p><p>            Maybe that whole backup thing wasn’t such a stupid idea after all. Note to self.</p><p>            He wasn’t sure how long his thoughts spun in circles. The crash of the door and sudden blaze of light made him squirm away, heart leaping to a gallop. Two men dragged a woman down the rickety stairs, dumping her under the buzzing light, just feet from Malcolm.</p><p>            Elaine. She was bound too, but not gagged. Blood and bruises marred her face, her mascara painting the trails of her tears. She met his gaze and Malcolm saw only fear and a strange regret he wouldn’t have expected to find in those eyes.</p><p>            Higgins was tall and lean, with dark blond hair and eyes lost to reason. The other man was shorter, thicker, his movements less certain. He stood back from Elaine and eyed Higgins, waiting.</p><p>            A submissive partner. He’d been right again.</p><p>            Higgins gestured and the other man wrenched Elaine onto her knees, facing Malcolm.</p><p>            “So this is him?” Higgins said, his voice far lower than Malcolm had been expecting. “This is the cop?”</p><p>            Malcolm tried to speak, forgetting the gag, and Higgins lashed out so quickly he didn’t see it coming. His head snapped to the side, a fresh sting biting into his temple.</p><p>            Unstable. Temper. Right again.</p><p>            “Did I ask you!” Higgins roared. Malcolm met his gaze coolly, not even daring to shake his head. His heart still hadn’t calmed but they didn’t need to know that. He could think his way out of this one, he just needed them to take the damn gag off. Playing along should give him that.</p><p>            “Is this him? The one who questioned you?” Higgins asked Elaine, voice thick with waiting violence.</p><p>            Malcolm’s eyes darted to Elaine’s. They wanted Gil. He gave her the tiniest nod he could manage. Let them think he was the only one. Let them think they were in control.</p><p>            Not breaking eye contact, Elaine nodded. Fresh tears streaked through her makeup.</p><p>            “Good,” Higgins said. He strode forward and crouched in front of Malcolm. “I’m gonna ask you some questions, cop, and you’re gonna answer me or I’ll kill the girl. You got that?”</p><p>            Ignoring the fresh tingle of fear, Malcolm nodded. <em>Just take the gag off.</em></p><p>            “You’re investigating Ryan Shaw’s death, right?”</p><p>            Malcolm nodded.</p><p>            “You went after the girl ‘cause you knew she was involved?”</p><p>            Malcolm shook his head.</p><p>            “Because you thought she knew something then.”</p><p>            Nod.</p><p>            “You figured she’s guilty of something.”</p><p>            A pause. A glance to Elaine. Then, nod.</p><p>            Higgins smiled.</p><p>            “You tell anyone you were going after her?”</p><p>            Malcolm blinked. And nodded.</p><p>            Higgin’s grin widened.</p><p>            “You’re lying.”</p><p>            He stood to his full height, standing still a moment as he considered his captive. Malcolm kept his gaze steady and unafraid so he saw the sneering twitch a heartbeat before Higgins raised his boot and kicked hard at Malcolm’s chest. The air fled his lungs as pain swept around his ribs and he doubled over, nostrils flaring as he fought for a full breath.</p><p>            “Liars,” Higgins said, lashing out again, forcing Malcolm’s head back with the force of the blow so it cracked against the post. “Get.” He twisted so he could drive his heel into Malcolm’s sternum and what little air he had vanished. “Punished.” Higgins reached down and grabbed a fistful of Malcolm’s hair, forcing his head back, neck straining. He breathed heavily through his nose, his torso begging to bend, crying out at this stretch as his abdominal muscles cramped and seized.</p><p>            “You lie to me again,” Higgins said quietly, leaning in closer, “and I’ll beat you to death. Understand me?”</p><p>            His pupils were dilated. He was enjoying this.</p><p>            Slowly, Malcolm nodded.</p><p>            “Good boy,” Higgins said, releasing his hair only to land another vicious punch to his already bleeding temple. It took Malcolm a long moment to drag his head back up, and even then the room lagged in his vision. He blinked hard, trying to right it, but that only sent a fresh stab of pain through his brain.</p><p>            “So. Cop. Did you tell anyone you went after her?”</p><p>            Malcolm shook his head. Higgins nodded once and stepped back to Elaine, pulling a gun from behind his back. Malcolm froze.</p><p>            “You’re in luck, girl,” Higgins said, voice oddly distant now. “You get a quick death. It’s more than you deserve, but, I got other problems now.”</p><p>            <em>No,</em> Malcolm begged silently. <em>No, take the gag off! I can save her!</em></p><p>            Higgins raised the gun. Malcolm pulled at his restraints, twisting his wrists, screaming against the cloth in his mouth. Higgins didn’t even glance his way. He just raised the gun and fired.</p><p>            Elaine slumped onto her side, deep brown eyes still open, staring right at Malcolm, the bullet wound bleeding through the tear tracks.</p><p>            Something cold and thick oozed through Malcolm’s veins. A fresh binding keeping him immobile, forcing him to stare at those unseeing eyes that had hidden an entire person just seconds ago.</p><p>            Higgins tucked the gun away and gestured to the other man.</p><p>            “CJ, you deal with the cop. I’ll get the van ready. They’re both for the river.”</p><p>            CJ nodded and watched Malcolm as Higgins squeaked his way up the old stairs. When he stepped forward, Malcolm dragged his gaze up to meet his and shook his head slightly, trying to plead through the tears stinging under his eyes.</p><p>            “Sorry cop,” CJ muttered. “But I gotta.”</p><p>            Malcolm closed his eyes. Elaine’s face never left him. He held onto it, welcoming the pain that was to come. He deserved it.</p><p>            He’d always deserved it.</p><p>            The ring of metal on concrete made him open his eyes. CJ had a length of pipe. Malcolm swallowed, tongue working futilely against the gag. He still had to fight. For Gil. But he couldn’t even move, could only turn his head away as the pipe came swinging for his side and he jerked, post biting into his shoulder blades, a low, moaning grunt crawling its way out of his throat. The next hit was lower, his abdomen, and his muscles tensed in futile protection. He pulled at the wires binding him, testing for give, but they were well tied. Strong. He couldn’t move.</p><p>            So he stopped fighting. Let CJ beat him. Almost welcomed the blows because, after all, it felt better than the acid burning through his chest. Better broken bone than shattered pride. He didn’t have to wait long before the first <em>crack</em> broke through his muffled groans. The heat of bruises rose, making him sweat, making it harder to breathe. Making him slump to the side as the pipe came at him again and again, any initial hesitance gone.</p><p>            He wasn’t sure if he’d lost consciousness from the pain or if he’d been hit too hard in the head and blacked out before he could register it. He thought his eyes were open but everything was so dark, maybe he was wrong. The numbing tightness around his wrists suddenly eased and blood stung as it rushed back to check the damage. He slid to the side, expecting to be greeted by the hard coolness of the concrete floor.</p><p>            But arms found him instead. Warm, familiar arms. Curling around him. Propping him up. His head rested against a strong shoulder, a calming scent snaking its way through the blood. The gag was pulled from his mouth, drawing a trail of bloody saliva with it. A hand patted his cheek and Malcolm forced his eyes open. He smiled.</p><p>            “Gil,” he mumbled.</p><p>            “Hey, kid,” Gil said softly, adjusting his grip so Malcolm’s aching legs could straighten.</p><p>            “’s good ... to see you,” he managed.</p><p>            “You too. Had us worried. You’re lucky I installed a tracker app on your phone.”</p><p>            Malcolm frowned, unaware his eyes had slid shut again. Gil’s shaking reminded him to stay awake.</p><p>            “Lost ... m’phone.”</p><p>            “Higgins took it. Thought a smashed screen was good enough.”</p><p>            Oh. Well. That was good. This was good. Not dying was ...</p><p>            Malcolm sucked in a brutal breath and reached for Gil.</p><p>            “Elaine,” he rasped, eyes searching for something that wasn’t there. “She – she –”</p><p>            “Shh, shh, kid. I know. We found her.”</p><p>            Malcolm slumped back in Gil’s arms, eyes closing under the weight of what he hadn’t done.</p><p>            “I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning into Gil’s shoulder, desperate for the comfort he was certain was about to be whipped away.</p><p>            “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, kid,” Gil said softly. “Bus is on the way. You just hang in there, okay?”</p><p>            “I – I cou – I couldn’t save her,” he confessed, working to form the words, to send them all the way to Gil’s judgement. “I couldn’t – I –”</p><p>            Gil’s arms tightened around him, holding him closer. He let a tear disappear into the knitted jumper.</p><p>            <em>“I’m sorry.”</em></p><p>            “You did all you could, kid,” Gil said into his hair. “I know you did. Sometimes you just can’t save everyone. You know that. Better than most.”</p><p>            Malcolm nodded against his shoulder, relaxing into his hold and forcing the pain down into the trunk rattling in the depths of his mind. Where he could pretend it didn’t hurt.</p><p>            He tried to sit up, grimacing, but Gil held him down.</p><p>            “Oh no, no, no. You’re not moving till the paramedics get here. No argument,” he added firmly as Malcolm opened his mouth.</p><p>            “You don’t need to hold me, Gil,” he said quietly, not making eye contact.</p><p>            “I know, kid,” Gil said with a smile, holding him tighter. “I know.”</p>
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